Dear Diary
by ClaireBear1982
Summary: Hermione finds her old diary, and takes some time to reminisce.


2: (word) Harm. 8: (quote) Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer. John Keats. 14: (word) Rich.

Ballycastle Bats

Chaser 2 - Write about Hermione.

* * *

It was finally moving day for Hermione. Today she would take her first steps into the big wide world. She was moving into a charming little flat in central London so she could be closer to the Ministry for work. She was about to start in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and she was extremely excited. She had so many plans to put into action, but first, she had to move all her stuff out of her parent's house and take it to her new flat. Certain smaller bits she could easily apparate with. Her bed, wardrobe, and chest of drawers had to be driven up and unloaded. Her parents had bought her a moving-in starter set; it consisted of crockery, cutlery, and saucepans. Harry had let Hermione have the sofa from the Drawing Room of Grimmauld Place; it had a beautiful rich colour, it was more beautiful than anything she could get herself.

While Hermione had been unpacking stuff from her old bedroom, she stumbled across an old blue leather-bound journal with a small gold clasp. Hermione gasped, she knew what this was! She hadn't seen it in many years, she'd filled it and put it away when she was nine. Hermione padded to the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea, and grabbed some rich tea biscuits. She settled down on her bed and popped the clasp. The years seem to suddenly fall away, and she was nine again, sat at her desk writing about everything that had happened that day in her journal.

On the first page was a John Keats quote: ' _Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer.'_

Hermione smiled to herself. She had always started a journal with a quote from a book or poem.

The first entry was dated September nineteenth nineteen-eighty-eight. Her ninth birthday. Hermione smiled as she skimmed over the passage she'd written in her best handwriting. But then the smile slowly vanished as it reminded her of the fact she hadn't had any friends back then. She'd gone into London with her parents to visit The Natural History Museum. Then she'd had tea and cake in a sweet little cafe, instead of a noisy, boisterous birthday party at The Wimpy bar, or McDonald's like the other children in her class. She wondered if it had done her harm to be so secluded as a child.

Distracting herself for the moment by taking a large sip of tea, Hermione flipped through the pages of the journal looking for something happier to read, when something caught her eye. She dunked her rich tea biscuit, nibbling the soggy biscuit as she read.

* * *

 _April 10th 1988._

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today something rather extraordinary happened while I was at school, and you're the only person I can tell. I don't think anyone else will believe me, not even Mum and Dad. Today, I got really angry in class, Oliver Whitehouse stole my pencil case and tipped the contents all over the floor. Miss Murchison wasn't much help, she just told him to 'knock it off' and that he wasn't causing me any harm. Once I was finished picking up all of my things, I felt this tingle on the inside, and I lifted my arm and flicked my hand. Oliver went flying off his chair, and he landed in the middle of the next table with an almighty crash. I don't think I caused any harm, but I was still worried._

* * *

The memory of that day came back to Hermione; it was rich and as vibrant as the day it happened. She realised now that she'd been, at that time, showing signs of accidental magic. She already had good control of it despite it being the first time she'd ever done anything.

* * *

 _Miss Murchison, of course, demanded to know what had happened, and what Oliver was doing mucking around like that. Oliver had told Miss Murchison that I had stood up and flicked my hand at him, and then he'd flown like a plane and made a crash landing onto the next table. Miss Murchison had told him not to be so ridiculous, that it would take magic for that to happen, but of course, there's no such thing. Is there? Gosh, I wonder if I'm just like Matilda? She could move things with her mind when she was angry! I'll have to practice some more!_

* * *

Hermione smiled. She'd loved Matilda as a child; she'd lost herself in that book so many times. The book gave her the love of books she now had; it helped develop her rich imagination. She felt she was a lot like Matilda, she had quite a brilliant mind herself, and by the age of five could do the work of most of her older peers. But because she was so book smart, she'd been shunned by the other kids. At age seven she was known as: 'Little Miss Know It All.' This little piece of memory caused Hermione to grimace, again she wondered if it had caused harm, and yet she had such a rich friendship with Ron and Harry. She could still remember all the long lonely days in the library, and children who would call her 'swot' and 'nerd'. She put down her now cold cup of tea and grabbed her wand, rewarming it before taking another sip. She then skipped ahead a few pages and continued reading. Another rich tea in her hand.

* * *

 _April 15th 1988_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Thank goodness it's the weekend. Can I tell you a secret? After what happened on Monday afternoon with Oliver, I've been trying to make things in my room move. Only nothing happened, well that is, until this afternoon! I made all my books fall off my shelf! Again I felt this tingling inside of me, and it felt like I was filling with air like a balloon, and I stared at my bookshelf for a moment, and then all my books fell off, just like that! It's both exciting and scary._

* * *

Just as rich and vibrant as the last memory, images flooded Hermione's mind. She'd been so scared of what she'd been doing, but at the same time excited that she seemed to have a secret power like some superhero.

She had decided there and then that if that was the case, and indeed she was some secret superhero, she would only ever use her powers for good, never would she deliberately harm anyone, and she certainly would never kill anyone. Hermione flicked through more pages until an entry in the middle of the journal caught her eye.

* * *

 _22nd June 1988_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I think I accidentally hurt someone today! I didn't mean too; I didn't! But he was trying to hit me! I screamed at him to stop, and the next thing I know, he's lying in the road, and a car was coming, and it didn't see him. I closed my eyes and screamed in my head for him to get up and move, and when I opened my eyes, he was lying on the grass verge beside the road. I honestly didn't mean any harm, diary; I didn't! I'm getting frightened now._

* * *

The entry cut off there, and the paper was marginally wrinkly from the tears she'd spilt as she'd wrote. She remembered that day only too well, and she still wasn't sure if she'd made him move, or if he'd moved of his own volition. She could still remember the tight feeling in her chest, the guilt she felt, the feeling that she'd very nearly caused someone harm. Hermione fidgeted with unease, but then rationally she realised she'd done a whole lot worse during the Wizarding War, she may not have killed anyone, but she had caused harm against her fellow witches and wizards - but that was justified, right? It was a case of kill or be killed.

Deciding it was getting late, Hermione put the diary down for the night.

A week had passed before Hermione had picked up the Journal again. The blue leather was soft with age, running the palm of her hand over its cover she again popped the clasp open. Again she was greeted by the John Keats quote that she'd penned all those years ago:

' _Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer.'_

Hermione flicked towards the end of the journal. She noticed after that incident in June nineteen-eighty-eight, she's stopped writing in her journal, but she couldn't quite remember why. The next entry, at least three years after, told her why.

* * *

 _July 6th 1991_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I'm sorry it's been so long, but I have been far too busy with school work. You see, my parents ended up having to move me to a different school. The bullying got so much worse, so I went to stay in a girls boarding school, that and the teachers felt they no longer had anything more to teach me, that I needed something far more challenging. So I moved. I've been trying much harder to keep a lid on my abilities too. I can't afford any more accidents, or for anyone to come to harm because of me again. It honestly hasn't been easy either. I'm home again now though, the summer holidays started a bit earlier, so that should make things easier._

 _-Oh, that's my parents calling me, I'll be right back!_

 _Oh my! I'm in complete shock! I'm a witch! What? How can that be? Magic isn't real! Witches are old and craggy, and fly around on broomsticks with pointy hats, and black cats… right?_

* * *

Hermione grinned widely at the memory. A Witch from the Education Board at the Ministry had arrived on Hermione's parents doorstep to explain about Hogwarts, the Ministry, the rules and the Statute of Secrecy which must be upheld by all witches and wizards. Hermione remembered being handed the envelope like it was yesterday, she had gently pulled the red wax seal off of the flap and pulled out the letter along with the equipment list. Her hands had been shaking as she had unfolded the pieces of rich parchment and read them aloud. Her parents had at first thought that it had all been a nasty prank, someone was trying to set up their daughter. However, the Witch had simply whipped out her wand and turned the teacup on the table into a vase. Hermione remembered being elated, and then explained all the weird stuff that had been happening to her. She didn't dare look at her parents during her retelling of the weird events, which had taken place over the past couple of years. She remembered how the Witch had told them that she'd be back the next day to take them to Diagon Alley and that they would buy all Hermione's school supplies, and true to her word, they did.

* * *

 _July 7th 1991_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Oh my gosh, so today, we went to a place called Diagon Alley. It was so amazing, and I didn't know where to look first! There was so much to see! Where to start? So we had to travel into London, the Witch said we had to travel like the other Muggles - apparently, that means non-magic people. So we took a train into central London, and headed for a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron,' most people don't know it's there, their eyes seem to skip right over it, which is fascinating. Anyway, we had to walk through the pub to a small yard where Lyra got her wand out and tapped the bricks in a certain pattern - it's the only way to get in from the Muggle world. The bricks parted, and a crooked cobble street came into view…_

Hermione was interrupted from her reading by a loud pained yell in the small square hall of her flat. She went rushing out of the bedroom, her wand out in front of her and found Ron sat on the floor rubbing his shins.

"Hermione, you could have at least warned me that you'd put that shoe rack here, I almost landed on top of it!" exclaimed Ron painfully.

Hermione laughed and pulled Ron to his feet, before throwing her arms around him in greeting. Later when Ron had gone again, Hermione found she still had a spare page in the back of the journal. Grabbing a quill, she began to write.

* * *

 _September 18th 1998_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _So much has happened since I last wrote in you. I'm nineteen tomorrow, and I've just moved into my new flat before I start work at the Ministry of Magic. I have two of the greatest friends I could ever have hoped to make, Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley - who also happens to be my boyfriend! I've seen so many things in the last seven years, been on so many adventures in the previous seven years as well. But I've survived. I'm hoping I can make a big difference now the war is over. We have a world to rebuild, and I want it to be better than it was before, I want to be able to give those without a voice a better life, especially House Elves. I shall do this in Dobby's name, that poor elf had had such an awful experience, but he died a hero, and that must always be remembered. I'm excited, nervous and scared of what the future is going to hold, diary. I know that it's going to be an adventure!_

* * *

Hermione closed the diary one last time and put it back in the box she found it in, placing it inside her wardrobe for safe keeping. There would be many times in the future that Hermione would pull that diary out and re-read it. Making all those memories come alive in rich colour again. Nor did she cause harm again. To quote John Keats:

' _Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer.'_


End file.
